[ This is Iorveth's way, he thinks, of asking Astarion how much he can tolerate while preserving his ego. A question he doesn't have to consider when he's the one calling the shots. Of course he has doubts and anxieties — what if he doesn't like it, or what if he likes it too much and Iorveth sees him differently for it? With Iorveth's warm hand under his waistband, though, it's difficult to consider any of those.
He must look profoundly unsexy as he squirms around trying to pull his stupid, too-big pants down without shoving Iorveth off or kicking him. He finds, strangely, that he doesn't really care. ]
All of it.
[ An obvious answer. He was never going to give any other one. He loathes the thought of Iorveth making himself smaller to please Astarion. He deserves to have his freak not only matched but adored. ]
I want every bit of you that you're willing to give, of course. [ A laugh, under his breath, and he adds, ] Even the deranged and perverted bits.
no subject
He must look profoundly unsexy as he squirms around trying to pull his stupid, too-big pants down without shoving Iorveth off or kicking him. He finds, strangely, that he doesn't really care. ]
All of it.
[ An obvious answer. He was never going to give any other one. He loathes the thought of Iorveth making himself smaller to please Astarion. He deserves to have his freak not only matched but adored. ]
I want every bit of you that you're willing to give, of course. [ A laugh, under his breath, and he adds, ] Even the deranged and perverted bits.